The Toa's Apprentice: Homecoming
by Inhumunculus
Summary: It's been three years, and Cheryl returns to Mata Nui, but it's not the paradise she once knew. The island is a wasteland. The Turaga have vanished, the Matoran are scattered and the Toa are nothing more than a memory. As she struggles to redeem her fall from grace, Cheryl is lured into a twisted tale prejudice, manipulation and a plot bigger than she could have ever imagined.
1. Prologue

Sometimes what you see; is what you tend to believe. It's there right in front of you; you can view it, hear it and touch it. There is no other way to validate its existence, because if something isn't there in front of you, how can you prove it exists at all?

Still, sometimes just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there. Have you ever seen a Toa? Do you even know what it is? Have you seen them perform amazing feats using bursts of elemental power or their mask power? Or serve to protect smaller beings called Matoran, who live only to serve the will of the all-powerful deity Mata Nui? Or watch them defend the Matoran from a terrible villain called the Makuta?

I have.

I've watched a group of Toa, six in all, wield their elemental abilities in their efforts to stave off Makuta and a group of his minions: Rahi, or wild animals, twisted to serve his will, Matoran turned against his or her friends to carry out the Makuta's bidding . . . even brainwash children. The Toa did all in their power to conceal the children, three in all, from Makuta's clutches. They nearly succeeded, intent on bringing the children up in the light and away from the seductive lure of the darkness, except the children were hardheaded and intent on deciding their own path . . . even though they were incapable of doing so. They walked right into Makuta's hands and they paid the price. The Toa rescued them just in time, but at the expense of losing one to Makuta and severely injuring another. The Toa then realized it wasn't safe for the children to be here and sent them both back home. I don't know what became of the boy they sent away, but the girl's fate is as clear to me as the depths of a crystal. And if the Toa could see her now, they would have wished for her to come back.

My name is Cheryl Price. I'm fifteen years old, and I am a Toa's Apprentice.


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: I know this was a long time in coming and I probably lost more than half of my desired audience, but hopefully I'll gain a few of you back. This is only the first of many chapters and I guarantee this volume will be longer and more complex than the last one - as most of the second installments usually are. Nonetheless, I hope you all enjoy and don't forget to write, comment, fav and alert. Thank you!**

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"Come now, Sharon. Let's try this again." My counselor held up the tiny bright red figurine in his hand, steadying it in front of my nose. He raised a brow even as my eyes narrowed, the ever-present pensive frown never leaving my face. "This is a toy. It is a plastic model children use to play with. Someone made it up; it isn't real."

With a small huff I turned my head away. I couldn't stand the sight of this figure, standing only a few inches tall as it perched in the counselor's palm. The toy's over enlarged mask was far too big for its body, nowhere near where the proportion it was supposed to be. The ball and socket joints at the shoulders and torso squeaked like rusty junctions of the Tin Man. The two-pronged black blocks that served as its hands hung suspended in front of it, nothing like the metallic palm and five long fingers it was supposed to have. I couldn't tolerate one more moment with this mockery of the Tahu it was modeled after.

"Maybe _that_ is a toy," I grumbled. I crossed my arms, curling further into myself. "The real thing is completely different." I shot him a glance. "And my name's Cheryl."

Heaving an impatient sigh, the counselor leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You can't keep sticking to your delusions. I applaud you for your imagination, but it is time to face reality." He leaned ever closer so much I thought he would fall right out of his chair. "That place _isn't_ real."

I didn't bother to reply. I pulled my legs into the large armchair with me, staring blankly out of the only window in the office. It was cloudy out, an endless stretch of gray spreading over the grounds. I think there was a chance of rain.

The counselor removed himself from his black leather swivel chair, placing the figurine of Tahu down, along with that pad of yellow lined paper he's always scribbling on. There are multiple black markings on it, but I'm unable to make out their meaning. He grasped a tether on the side of the window and pulled down. A cascade of wooden blinds blocked out the puffy water-laden masses and I followed to counselor with my eyes as he made his way back to his chair.

"I need you to concentrate, Sharon," he insisted. He placed the notepad in his lap and let the Tahu doll fall at his feet. It fell on its side, mask planted in the dark blue fibers of the carpet. "We're not going to get through this delusion if you keep becoming distracted. Now," – he crossed an ankle over his knee, setting the notepad at the junction of the two joints – "why do you insist on telling lies about where you've been in the few months you were kidnapped?"

My chest tightened. Lies? "I'm not."

"One doesn't simply vanish without logical cause." His cool gray eyes softened behind the frames of his rectangular glasses. The muscles in my shoulders tensed. "I understand if it is difficult for you. We don't know what truly happened to you when you disappeared, but we will once you have told us. If you're worried about your kidnappers coming back for you, they won't. Once you give the police legitimate information they will catch them and you won't have to worry about anything ever again."

I scoffed with a roll of my eyes. "There's nothing to give them because I wasn't taken by _human_ kidnappers."

The counselor nodded. "Right. They were these things." He gestured with the tip of his pen towards the figure on the floor. "They whisked you away to a make-believe land where you were endowed with the power to manipulate ice as you please."

"I was." My gaze was stern, catching the counselor off-guard. He raised a curious brow, interested. "I am able to fabricate ice with my bare hands, and not just a fragment – entire objects. I made knives once, even a sword, and I froze entire Rahi beasts solid."

The barest flickers of a smile tweaked the corners of the counselor's lips and he cradled his head between his thumb and first two fingers. "Is that so? Well then," – he reached over to his desk and placed a bottle of water in my hands – "prove it."

I blinked, staring at the bottle and tossed it over in my hands. The transparent water curled from end to end of the bottle, smacking against the cap and rolling against the sides, leaving little drops on the curved plastic. Twisting the cap off, I cupped my left hand and poured the smallest amount into the bevel of my palm. A little water spilled out and dripped onto the carpet. My focus was aimed at the tiny pool in my hand, recalling what it felt like to have frigid slush pump through me and flow out of my fingertips. It had been so easy, like breathing. I drew in a breath. The counselor leaned in, notepad in hand, pen primed to note even the slightest manifestation. I raised my other hand and touched my fingertips to the pool . . . only to have them sink into the water and meet the flesh of my palm.

My stomach dropped even as the counselor nodded. I sat back in the chair, staring at the water even as it dripped over the side of my hand and soaked into the carpet.

"It's time to forget, Sharon," the counselor said softly. He placed both notepad and pen on the desk, reclining comfortably in his chair. He folded his hands in front of him. "You're fifteen years old, and it's about time you begin acting as such. Get on with school, take up driving, get a job – leave these childish dreams behind."

"They're not dreams, they're memories," I countered. I pulled my legs into the seat and hugged them close, eyeing the counselor harshly. "Everything happened exactly as I have said it, but I can't expect you to understand that."

Her sighed deeply, massaging the spot between his eyes. I couldn't help but smirk. "Seems as if we're going in circles," he surmised. "Alright, if you wish to continue with your story then I suggest prolonging your stay until you are willing to give forfeit this delusion."

My expression soured, a harsh growl turning up the corner of my lip. "That's not fair!" He jumped.

"Life isn't always fair. I am simply doing what is right in my honest opinion."

"How is forgetting everything that has happened to me right?" I countered. "I've been nothing but honest since I was brought to this place and you keep trying to convince me none of it was real. I was a Toa's Apprentice! I could command ice to form with a snap of my fingers and I fought with a sixty-foot giant that was evil incarnate! None of it is made up and none of it symbolism for any human kidnappers. It's all true!"

"Calm down, Sharon. You're getting excited."

"Cheryl!" I barked, leaping from my seat. "How can I even hope to relate to an allegedly licensed psychiatrist if you can't even remember my name?!"

Silence permeated the office, punctuated by my harsh breathing. I had been holding my frustrations in for a while and it felt good to finally release them. Sitting back slowly in the chair, I watched the counselor closely. Hopefully now I would be taken more seriously.

"I think we're done for today." He stole a glance at the square clock upon the wall. "A little sooner than scheduled, but it can't be helped. We'll be sure to make up for lost time next session."

I closed the door before he could even finish, running a hand through my salt and pepper hair. I didn't understand why I needless endured the same rounds of questions when it all ended alike: me sticking to my story and him not believing me. In fact, none of the counselors I have encountered the past three years believed me. What made them think this one would be any different?

Shaking my head, I turned away from the office and strolled down the hall, taking occasional glances outside the rain-washed windows, thinking back to all that had happened these past three years and how they landed me here.

When Kopaka pushed me through the portal, I was on my street, right outside my house where I had disappeared. I tried desperately to reopen a portal, slamming my hands over and over into the ground in the hopes of manifesting some kind of ice mirror or anything that would somehow link me back to Mata Nui, but to no avail. Neighbors rushed out of their homes, alerting my parents and trying to console me from my madness. I had never been crushed by so many hugs before in my life, but I neglected the affection in favor of my quest. I was relentless, spouting my journey in as few words as I could, but my haste was mistaken for hysteria and right away action was taken.

Convinced I had been abducted, I was driven to the police station where I gave my testimony and questioned, pressed for information that simply didn't exist. They asked me which one of the well-known gangs was it? Was someone hired to hold me for ransom, or had a grudge against my parents. No matter how much I claimed otherwise, it was overlooked and key pieces of my story were taken out of context. Words such as "Toa" and "Makuta", "Matoran" and "Apprentice" were attributed to some new dialect of street slang utilized by my very human kidnappers. It wasn't until someone researched the terms and brought up the toy line from Lego that my story was either an elaborate hoax or compensation for dealing with the trauma.

That was when the throng of counselors came marching in. They started out fairly innocent: trying to be my friend and gently prod the information out of me. For most of the time I told my story once and then clammed up when they refused to accept it. They used all kinds of methods to milk it out of me: promises of rewards and peace of mind. If they were really feeling generous, they bribed me with cookies or models of the characters I spoke of, but I cast all enticements aside like an annoying strand of hair lingering in my face. It didn't matter how many times they tried to alter the facts or guide me in different directions towards "the truth", there was no deterring me from what happened. And of course that was what landed me deeper and deeper into hot water. The counselors became more forceful, my parents became more insistent, and the police all but deemed my case as a hoax. Nonetheless, my parents and the counselors refused to yield. They knew I was gone for an obscene amount of time without any trace and everything I was saying were jewels in a psychiatrist's goldmine. And so it went for three long years, progressively getting worse and worse until it all came to a head five months ago.

After the opinions of so many professionals and with some unanimous decisions on my parents' part, they decided I would have a better chance of returning to normal teenage behavior under close supervision and perhaps among others how share my way of thinking. That's how I ended up at Lakecrest, a place where children like me were sent to talk out their problems and "leave childish dreams behind". Of course, I have yet to meet one who has yet to relinquish their memories, but the staff keeps trying and the tenants keep repeating the same tales they always have.

Needless to say, of all the stories, mine has become the most popular, especially amongst the little ones. It was everything they had ever dreamed of: daring adventure alongside the ever-popular made-up heroes. Of course if they had been there, the experience would have them thinking otherwise . . . and I wondered how many young ones just like them were taken as Apprentices . . . and never came back. In the files I discovered in Makuta's private stateroom, I recalled catching glimpses of rather young faces, but I couldn't wrap my mind around a seven or eight-year-old undergoing the same events that brought me, a then twelve-year-old, to my knees. It made my stomach twist simply thinking about it, but I knew at one point or another it happened to someone that young.

I decided not to linger on the topic any longer. I had already done enough thinking on the "what ifs", far more than I should have. It was the past and I resigned to my fate of never returning, but I often dreamed of going back – in fact, I craved it. I never knew what happened after Sebastian attacked: Did Kopaka make it out alright? What happened to Matt, and the other Toa? I longed to know the answers and so much more, but the more I thought on them, the more anxious I became. I never liked making up my own truth; too many things could be doubted, but it was my only comfort besides not knowing, no matter how small of a comfort it was.

The hallway dumped into a wide circular room, branched on all sides by four smaller hallways: three led deeper into the building, one to outside. Choosing the middle, I made straight for the rooms. There was a total of twelve in all, each housing a set of bunk beds as well a table, chair and dresser. What was interesting was that each room had its very own chessboard, even though most everyone didn't know how to play or were too dulled by it to care. My room was the third on the left, facing east and towards the morning sun. I shared it with a girl nearly my age from the town next over. She, like me, had dreams of being in another world as well, but where mine was filled with sentient mechanical beings, hers was bursting with talking rabbits, malicious queens, and the personification of nearly every stationary object known to man. And they thought I was nuts.

Opening up the door, I found my roommate gone. I hadn't expected her to be there anyways. She was always outside playing in the garden amongst the roses, picking at their petals and sometimes even carrying on full conversations. Sometimes she would be out there from dawn until dusk, never coming in until the staff coaxed her back in with promises of tea and cake and perhaps a game of cards. I didn't mind if she stayed out all day, in fact I rather enjoyed it. The silence always helped.

I parked myself in front of the window, simply staring out at my view of the grounds. It was nothing special, just a green lawn with an oak tree off to the left and a little beyond that a wrought-iron fence topped with pointed spires. The fence was taller from what it used to be. We were all playing in the yard and someone kicked a ball over the fence. He tried to go get it and nearly succeeded in jumping over the fence when staff caught him and security was called. We never got the ball back and instead they put in this larger fence. No one dared try to climb it.

Tiny drops of water splashed against the windowpane, soon followed by a gradual downpour that turned all to gray. As I watched the storm, I couldn't help but allow my thoughts to wander back to the therapy session. The counselor's words were the same slogan I had heard over the past three years and the more they were said, the more I refuted it. I knew what had happened to me and everything the counselor and others like him were trying to put thoughts into my head . . . but the more they said it wasn't real . . . the more I wondered . . .

"Was I really . . . just imagining it?"

I looked down at my hands, narrowing my eyes. Many times before I had tried to use my ice powers and for a little while it worked. I was able to flash freeze even the tiniest droplet . . . but maybe around a year ago my powers began to fail me. I figured I had simply worn out my energies and they would replenish themselves after a few days . . . but that experiment just now only proved my worst fears.

The tapping of the rain upon the window increased and with it my temper. All this water about, just out of reach, taunting me. I placed my hands upon the window, staring intently at the transparent streaks dripping down the shatterproof glass. If I was at my full strength, I could easily freeze every last drop . . .

"Cheryl."

I gasped and leaped around, flinging my arm up in a defensive position, but no spray of ice crystals flew from my palm. The staff attendant tossed me a bewildered look and I flushed, slowly lowering my arm.

"Time for dinner," he said before moving out of the room and onto the next one.

Sighing deeply, I buried my face in my hands. I had allowed my thoughts to claim me. People here already thought I had a few screws loose, and I didn't need to worsen that opinion.

Pinching the space between my eyes, I massaged my eyes with the pads of my thumbs before lowering my hands and walking out of the room. Pouring through the hallway were others, all focused on the promise of food. It really was all we had to look forward to. Deterring my eyes from their haunted ones, I merged into the shuffling throng and soon became no more than one of many.

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Dinner wasn't anything special. It was Wednesday and that meant over cooked spaghetti and barely defrosted meatballs smothered in tasteless tomato sauce. Spaghetti and meatballs used to be one of my favorite meals when I was younger; I could make a large pot of eat and simply gorge on it without end, but this cheap imitation had turned me away from it. All of the meals here had and I didn't enjoy them anymore than one would enjoy a black licorice stick. Still, they supplied with enough energy for the day and it did me no good not to eat anyway, so I ate it.

Filing through a doorway down the hall, I stood in line along with everyone else. It was like a kitchen with a long, titanium bar separating the actual stoves from everyone else. Along the bar were titanium containers filled with noodles, meatballs and sauce, each kept hot via vats of bubbling water beneath them. There was about two of each of these containers, with the kitchen staff replacing each whenever they ran out. At the end of the bar was a basketful of breadsticks and a cooler container filled with the dessert: brownies that tasted no more delicious than a slab of thick, soggy cardboard smothered in sugar and chocolate chip knockoffs.

Picking up a plate, I handed one to the person behind me just because I felt like it. I hardly noticed his nod of thanks and kept my eyes trained upon the floor. It was always at mealtime, I noticed, I became the most withdrawn. I wasn't like everyone else here, I was a normal teenager with an incredible story that simply seemed to absurd to be real, but sometimes the truth is absurd and doesn't make sense. I had nothing in common with most everyone here. As usual, I dished myself a semi-decent portion of spaghetti and meatballs, grabbed a breadstick and left the dessert for everyone else. Like windup toys, I followed the others out of the kitchen as we all piled into an adjoining dining room.

The dining room was more akin to a mess hall, or a school lunchroom. Eight long tables, each with an attached bench on either side, took up the majority of the room's space, with maybe a few feet of slack between the tables and the walls. I always thought it was too much space for a collective group of forty kids, but the extra distance meant we all could spread out.

And just a like a school lunchroom, there were designated tables. The little ones, those who could have passed for second and third graders in an elementary school, always took the tables to the left, though they mostly occupied one table and sacrificed the other to the older kids, mainly the nine to eleven year olds. The middle was where the junior high-aged kids reigned, the kids just blooming into their teen years but hadn't lost the youthfulness of their childish counterparts. Some of them hadn't even changed their voices. Then the two tables to the right were left to everyone else, the older teens from aged fourteen to seventeen. There was no one that exceeded this age group; this facility was for minors only – and we kind of liked it that way. In this place, the undeclared rules of Kid Law could still be enforced and the pecking order of age could remain intact: the bigger kids ruled the roost and the young ones followed suit, simple as that.

Taking my place at the proper table, I took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly and waited for the others to join me at the table. It was one of the rules not to eat until the oldest kids sat down, more of a respect thing than anything else. Even the younger kids obliged to the rule. The seats around me filled themselves and soon enough the only one missing was the oldest of us. He liked to be the last one seated, as a sort of test to see who gave into their stomachs. No one did. And when the oldest sat down, the hall erupted into frenzy of clanking plates, twirling forks and noisy chomps.

I sucked up a spoonful of the tasteless spaghetti, swallowing only after a few chews. With this kind of meal, it was best to fill your stomach fast and not let the taste linger on the tongue.

The oldest, Thomas by name, peered over the rim of his Styrofoam cup at me, setting it down before speaking. "Heard you went for another session. How was it?" He took a mouthful of spaghetti and chewed thoughtfully. I think Thomas was the only one who didn't mind the lack of taste.

I shrugged, tearing off the end piece of my breadstick. "Nothing to report. Same old runaround."

Thomas shook his head, slurping up a string of noodle hanging from his mouth. "Grown ups don't get it, y'know? We tell 'em once we tell 'em a thousand times. It's like they don't listen or somethin'."

A small smile tweaked the side of my lips. Among our group, everyone's story was accepted. It didn't matter how outlandish it seemed, it was just another colorful thread in the tapestry of Lakecrest.

Taking another drink, Thomas licked lingering sauce from his lips and the corners of his mouth. Even though the boy was nearly eighteen, he ate like a three-year-old. "Tell us a story."

I blinked. "What?"

"Tell us a story," Thomas reported casually. "One of yer adventures."

"But you've heard all of them already," I argued. I must have recounted every tale at least fifty times over.

Thomas shrugged. "Don't matter. I want to hear a story."

His demand sparked a rowdiness from the younger ones across the way, all of them echoing Thomas's wants. Of every group in the building, it was the little ones that crowed for my stories the most.

"Which story?" I asked with a sigh.

"How about the one where you and that other kid escaped from Tahu?" one asked.

"No! The one where Kopaka saves you from Makuta!" another piped.

"Or the one where you and Lewa fought that bug thing in the jungle!"

"See, I don't need to tell them. You already know them," I interjected.

"Why don't you tell them the truth?"

Collectively everyone looked down the table to the lonely boy sitting at the end. He was playing with the soggy strands of the spaghetti, eyes fixed upon them. His other arm was placed upon the table, posture hunched defensively over his meal. We wondered if he had even spoken at all, and the breath caught in my throat as he turned his hardened gaze upon me.

"Tell them the real story," Drake went on, voice monotonous and stern. "About all the monsters and what they do to people like us."

I narrowed my eyes. I had never been too sure of Drake. He came in a little after I did, rambling almost the exact same things I had been saying, but his tales were darker, full of madness and inhuman experiments that never before crossed my mind. He said he was an Apprentice as well, but when he failed to give me the name of his master or even what element he ruled, I determined he was just telling lies, trying to garnish the same unwanted attention I received. My suspicions were only made clear whenever he let his twin personalities take possession of him.

"The only monster I have seen is Makuta," I replied, combating his stare with my own. "He is the real monster." I flushed as Drake sneered.

"You think he is the only one?" Drake forsook his fork, tossing it away even as he shoved the half-eaten plate aside. "You haven't seen anything yet if you think Makuta is the worst of them all." His face darkened. "Karzahni would do anything to get a hold of someone like you. He did for me – and look where it got me!"

Drake yanked up his shirt, revealing multiple Xs cauterized into his chest. I visibly shuddered, drawing away from the crazed boy. Many of the little ones protested their disgust. Thomas stood up from his seat, wiping sauce on the back of his hand.

"Karzahni hates when Toa escape," Drake hissed. He lowered his shirt and lumbered towards me, brushing away the few teens that sat in his path. "He _will_ complete his tests!"

"Hey, cool it!" Thomas grasped Drake by his collar, shoving him back a step. Drake refused to cower in Thomas' shadow as the much larger boy loomed over him. "No one wants to hear yer crazy talk."

"_My_ crazy talk?" Drake repeated. "All of this babble about nonsense, about castles on the backs of turtles, rabbits in waistcoats – that is the crazy talk you mean! I know what I saw, and what I saw was true! And she knows it!" Drake aimed a finger at me. "Whether she wants to admit it or not."

"I said knock it off!" Thomas shoved Drake back hard and the smaller body stumbled, collapsing to the ground. There was a hushed silence in the room, no one speaking, eating, or even breathing. Thomas panted hard, hands curled into fists, tension settling into his broad shoulders, ready to spring.

Drake glowered up from his position, chest rising and falling harshly. He stayed there a moment, flicking his gaze from Thomas to finally me. " . . . Fine . . ." Using the table bench as support, Drake hauled himself to his feet. "This isn't over. Karzahni will find me . . . and he will find you."

Thomas cracked his knuckles.

A humorless smirk tweaked Drake's corner lip. His eyes flashed red and I sprang up to pursue him, but Drake shuffled away and out of the dining room.

My appetite deserted me after that. Standing by the window of my room, I watched the rain seep down once more, thinking heavily upon everything Drake had said. I hadn't encountered or heard of anyone named Karzahni, but he was a common topic with Drake. From what I gathered, Karzahni was a madman with only the intent to destroy and twist things far beyond what they should be, all for the sake of "improvement" . . . and he was far worse than Makuta. I bit the inside of my cheek, my brow tightening. I hated to admit it, but the thought of something worse than Makuta frightened me. I didn't want to think all of the evil and all of the pain that monster caused . . . was only a drop in the bucket compared to what else could be out there. I only hoped I wouldn't have to experience it.

Sighing, I leaned my forehead against the cool shatterproof glass of the window. My warmth breath clouded the specks of rain stuck to surface and I stared at each and every one. Ever so slowly I pressed the tips of my fingers against the pane of glass, concentrating on the coolness of the weather and the drops of moisture just an inch away, willing it to drop a few degrees then a few more and more until a thin layer of frost emerge at my fingertips, smearing the window in delicate array of feathery patterns. A smile spread my lips.

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**Thank you for coming to the end of the chapter! Hopefully it met your expectations and then some, and if it didn't let me know. I'm flexible and always open for suggestions. I can't say for sure when the next chapter will be up, but with break coming soon, it'll probably be within the next week or so - no promises. **


	3. Chapter 2

Slowly my eyes slid open to reveal nothing but a dark room. A slab of opaque light leaked in from the gas lamps outside, punctuated by the silhouettes of falling rain. Frowning, I turned over on my side to stare into the room. I thought for sure I had heard something; a hard tap against the window or the walls (I couldn't determine which) but perhaps it was nothing but the rain.

Rolling onto my back, I rubbed the heels of my palms against my eyes, heaving a deep breath. The electric clock sitting upon the desk read one in the morning, far too early to be up. Above me, my roommate tossed in her sleep, the mattress of the top bunk squeaking under her weight. I had often wondered what would happen if that mattress would yielded to gravity and gave way. I didn't have a phobia of things falling on me, but the thought was always a concern.

_Tap! Tap! Tap!_

I jerked my head back towards the window, eyes narrowing. This time for certain I heard those taps, and it wasn't the rain. I sat up and swung my legs out of bed, sliding my feet into the slippers the facility provided. They weren't legit slippers like one might find their dad wearing on any given Saturday morning, but the imitation ones that were easy to buy in bulk, but wore away after a few months. Mine were no different, the sides already frayed to reveal the cardboard soles. Even the light blue color had faded to a dirty gray. Still, they did the job in keeping the cold away from my toes.

Crossing my hands beneath my arms, I stood before the window and stared out at the watery night. From what I could see there was nothing that could have made those taps. No large animals shifted amongst the grass, there wasn't even so much as a breeze. Perhaps it was just the water running through the gutters or a leaky pipe within the walls. I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, there were always old water spots appearing in the ceiling.

Sighing, I turned back to my bed when yet another tap caught my attention, followed quickly by a series of excited knocks against the windowpane. I turned and immediately jumped back, tumbling over my ankles and landed heavily upon the floor. A large, black entity dominated nearly the entire window, blocking out the pale blue light. Its arms spread out above its heads, fingers pressed to the glass as if it may reach straight through. And set deep within the dark mass was a pair of glowing orange eyes.

The breath caught in my throat as I stared more, flashes of my final moments on Mata Nui lit up like fire in my mind. _He found me!_ I thought. _Makuta found me!_ My body remained glued in place, disbelief coiling around me in a vice grip. It robbed me of my breath and sense and all that was present was fear.

"No!" I trembled. "No, you're not taking me. NO!" I flung my arms up protectively in front of me, shutting my eyes tight.

Bright, white light flooded the room and a hand touched my shoulder, jolting my head up. Alice stared at me with wide, confused eyes. "What's wrong? What is it?"

"The window!" I yelped, pointing at it. All that met our eyes was the empty voice of the window and the reflection staring back at us. There was no sign of the figure.

"There's nothing there," Alice concluded. "It's just us."

I shook my head, heart stampeding though my chest. "No, I saw him. I _saw_ him. Makuta found me – he's found me!" I clutched desperately at her nightgown, as if the smaller girl might somehow ward away this evil spirit.

"It was just a dream," Alice deemed. She gently peeled my hands away from her, taking them in her own. "In dreams, they feel real while we're in them and when we wake up they make no sense."

"A . . . dream?" I massaged my head. It didn't feel like a dream, but then of course it was fairly early in the morning and all of the turmoil with the counselor as well as Drake, it must have wracked my nerves. Stress was more than likely the culprit. "Yeah . . . maybe it was just a dream . . ." Sighing, I pinched the spot between my eyes, groaning. "Sorry I woke you up."

"Go to bed." Alice drifted from my side to the small ladder leading to the top bunk. She eased herself onto the mattress, tossing the thin covers over her. "Can you turn off the light?"

"Yeah . . . sure." I massaged the back of my neck, sighing deeply.

Rising slowly, I kept my eye strained upon the window, even after the lights had gone out and all that was left was the blue glow from the streetlights outside. There was no evidence of a hulking shadow or the glowing orange eyes. Shaking my head, I climbed into bed and tossed the covers over me, staring at the shimmering shadows of the rainfall. To think my own paranoia would get the better of me, now these memories were manifesting in unsettling ways. I needed to get away from it all, try not to remember it so much, if only to preserve my sanity.

_Tap!_

I leaped from my bed instantly and jumped to the window, pressing my face against the glass, scanning all corners of the frigid slab. My heart raced wildly, holding my breath. This time I would be prepared; Makuta wasn't going to scare me this time. He would hold no power over me.

Abruptly, the window was eclipsed with the dark form, clenching my heart in my chest, but I didn't waver. I stared headlong into those piercing orange eyes, panting heavily, my breath fogging up the glass, hiding the figure in a cloud. I raised a hand in defense as the shadow raised its, scratching a finger against the glass, the transparent structure misting over in a light frost. The orange eyes arched with joy and the tapping continued with restored fervor.

My brow creased. Why would Makuta just stand there? If he had found me, he would have done away with me in an instant. All that was separating us was a couple inches of engineered glass. It would have shattered in an instant under a portion of Makuta's power. _So why hasn't he done it already?_

The shadow stepped back from the window some, revealing its form to me. It was smaller than Makuta, considerably so. It wasn't blocky in shape, but slender and broad, the sharp edges of its armor catching the soft blue light. The figure turned slightly, bathing itself in light. My jaw dropped, limbs relaxing as I stared hard at the figure, grinning from ear to ear. I couldn't believe it, but at the same time I couldn't have been more ecstatic.

With a beaming grin on my face and elation swelling in my chest, I dashed out of the room with all speed. I flung the door open so hard it slammed against the wall, jolting Alice awake. She called after me, but I ignored her questions. My feet carried me swiftly through the halls of Lakecrest, my footsteps echoing throughout the deserted halls. There was a danger to running around like a fool, any one of the staff could catch me, halting my progress and forbid me from seeing my visitor, but I didn't think of it then. All I wanted was to get outside.

I rounded a bend, making a right-hand turn and meeting the straightforward path to the front doors. I hadn't gone through those doors since I came here three years ago. Fitting that I was to leave during this circumstance. I slammed into the doors headlong, sloppily unbolting the lock in my haste, and breaking through into the cold, rainy night.

I leaped from the front porch to the soggy grass of the front lawn, wiping rainwater from my eyes as I ran to the spot where my room looked out.

In the back of my mind, I wondered if this was some cruel joke. Was my mind only playing tricks, brought on by the conjuring of the counselor and even Drake? If the same thing hadn't occurred three years ago, then I would have said yes, but I knew better.

My feet were chilled with muddy water. My slippers were so sodden I tossed them aside and treaded barefoot. The breath ghosted in white puffs in front of my nose, the thin threads of my pajamas sticking to me like a second skin. I paused and looked around into the night, hoping to see him there. When nothing but the waterlogged night met my eyes, my spirits sank. I didn't understand, this couldn't have been just a hallucination. I know what I had seen . . . but could I really trust my eyes?

Suddenly, my vision went black and I gasped, throwing my hands up to touch my face and pausing upon feeling the cool metal of armor, tracing my fingers along the sharp edges to the large, slender fingers shielding both my eyes.

"Guess who?" he murmured behind me, the impish grin evident in his voice.

I beamed and tore his hands away from my face. I wasted no time leaping into him, coiling my arms around his neck in a ferocious bear hug. "Lewa!"

The Air Toa caught me and laughed, returning the gesture just as much. We hugged for a good long while until he put me down on the sopping wet lawn, placing a hand on my head. "It's been a long time-while!" he exclaimed. "Look how much you've grown-aged. Not a tiny-small thing anymore."

"Still not as large as you," I shot back. While I had grown a few inches in the past few years, I only came up to a little above the Toa's middle, his seven-foot frame dwarfing my five-foot, three-inch. "How did you get here?"

The Air Toa gave a small shrug. "Your universe-world is full of gap-holes, like a Stone Rat nest. It was easy to find one."

"No kidding," I replied. I was kind of aware that there were portals to other worlds, at least on some level, but didn't think the whole world would be riddled with them. It now made sense why Makuta had found me all those years ago without the use of the Mask of Dimensional Gates and why Lewa wasn't wearing it now. I curled my arms in close to my chest, knees knocking against each other as the cold nipped at my nose, fingers and toes. The rain had nearly soaked me to the bone, every inch of me drenched. "I-I'm s-s-so glad you f-found m-m-me," I stuttered, trying with all my might to control my chilled body.

"What're we standing-doing out in the rain-shower?" Lewa said, knocking himself on the mask. "Can't have you freeze-chill."

He led me back to the porch, offering for me to sit down on the steps. It wasn't particularly warm here and I still trembled like a frightened Chihuahua, curling in on myself to preserve at least some form of heat. Lewa stood before me.

"Ironic-funny how you are an Apprentice of ice and here you are freezing-cold!" the Air Toa pointed out.

"N-not that i-ironic," I huffed, breathing into my hands. "I-I d-d-didn't start gaining m-my powers b-back u-until y-yesterday." As far as I knew, I was still completely human and that made me subject to the cold, no matter what stereotypes said I shouldn't be.

Lewa tilted his head. "You lost them? How?"

I shrugged. "B-beats me. I-I guess being here o-over time w-weakens m-my a-abilities." It would make sense, but I wasn't for sure. I didn't even try to use my powers when I first came back, too focused on the swirl of chaos brewing around me. My attempt at the counselor's office was the first time I pulled such a stunt since coming back.

"Maybe-possible," Lewa determined. "I don't know for sure-certain how Apprentice powers operate-work here, but even I've seen-guessed my powers aren't at full strength-power."

He swept his arm up and a loose breeze rippled across the porch, but not the strong gale he was hoping for. Even still I huffed and shivered, curling into a tight ball. "See?" he asked.

I nodded stiffly. "Y-yeah I-I s-see." I should have grabbed jacket on my way out.

I looked upon the Toa of Air and frowned slightly, finally getting a good look at him. The overall color of his armor was dulled from a vibrant green to a faded emerald color, like that of a fern that hadn't received its fair share of water and sunlight. It was pitted and scratched nearly all over as if it had been put through a sandblaster, chunks the size of my thumbnail missing in some places. Even his blazing orange eyes weren't as bright as before and were sunken and distant that reminded me of a soldier that had weathered too many battles. I was so caught up in the rapture of seeing him, that I had blatantly overlooked these obvious details.

"W-what happened to y-you?" I asked, brow creasing in worry. "W-what's b-been going on s-since I-I left?"

Lewa fell silent, his gaze falling to the steps of the porch. "That's the main purpose-reason I came-appeared. Things are dark-bad, Cheryl. Makuta has annex-captured the whole island of Mata Nui. Many of the Matoran went lost-missing and then came back as Ghosts, led by your brother and Sebastian." The Air Toa shook his head, placing a hand over his eyes. "We . . . suffer-endured many defeat-losses. The Turaga . . ."

"W-what?" I pressed. I leaned forward, hanging on Lewa's every word. "What about the Turaga?"

Lewa shook his head, lips becoming a tight line.

My heart clenched and I forgot all about the cold in my bones, for the icy chill of dread possessed me. Thoughts ran wild in my head, poisoning my imagination with endless scenarios of what happened. Immediately I thought of Turaga Vakama and the little bit of insight he had given on Ghosts. I couldn't think of someone like him or any of the Turaga falling to such darkness . . . commanded by my former brother and Sebastian no less.

"And the other Toa?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

"We live," Lewa confirmed. He offered a weak smile. "We're hard to slay-kill, you know that. But we all have experience-beard our trial-hardships. Our homes destroy-vanquished . . . our Matoran halved-cut. We are mostly in Onu-Wahi now, underground and out of Makuta's reach-grasp." He frowned. "Not ideal-perfect for a vine-swinger like me, but we have no choice-option."

"And . . . Kopaka?" I asked softly.

Lewa hesitated before saying, "The same stiff icicle he ever was . . . though not entirely one-whole." His eyes met mine and within them swam many secrets Lewa was unwilling to tell. "You need-have to see him."

"T-then let's go!" I yelped, climbing to my feet. I didn't like to think the person who was responsible for me getting tangled up in this mess . . . and mentored me in so many ways in the process was now the one who needed me the most. "W-where did you c-come f-f-from?"

Lewa pointed through the curtain of drops to just beyond the iron-gate fence. "In a burrow-thicket, just down the street-road." He frowned quizzically. "Strange-odd forests you have here. Not as thick-dense as Wahi-jungle, or as alive. It's lack-wanting."

I shrugged and took a step along the porch, the frigid temperature of the concrete biting my toes. The doors abruptly burst open behind me and I leaped, whirling around to find two of the staff standing at the mouth of the hallway. My heart leaped into my throat, the color draining from my face.

"Go!" I shoved my hands out towards the Air Toa, shoving him away into the downpour. I quickly followed after him, launching off the porch and tumbling into the night as the fingers of a staff member, his fingers grazing the collar of my soaking shirt. I fell headfirst onto the lawn in a spray of rainwater and mud. Lewa clutched onto my shoulder, pulling me away as I scrambled to my feet, the shocked staff staring at us from the porch.

"Lewa, go! Get out of here!" I turned, shoving the Toa away but the Air Toa countered by grasping my arm and swinging me onto his back. My chest hit the solid shell of his armor, forcing the wind from me.

"Only if you're go-coming with me!" Lewa called, the smile evident in his voice. Lewa curled his arms beneath my knees, locking me onto his back."Hold on strong-tight."

The Toa abruptly leaped forward, dashing across the soggy lawn with such swiftness that would put any Olympic sprinter to shame. The G-force alone shoved me back, my arms nearly slipping from his neck and I fought all the harder to stay glued to his back.

Behind us, the staff members shook themselves out of their shocked stupor and dashed back inside the building. Not a moment later, vicious alarms blared overhead, every motion-sensor light flaring to life.

I peeled away from the crevice of Lewa's neck to gaze at the commotion behind us. Each light inside was turned on, silhouettes of the children I had come to know squeezed up against the windowpanes, scrambling to get a look at the cause of their abrupt awakening. I grinned and pulled away just enough to raise both arms over my head, fists jutting up into the air. They cheered from their perches, egging me on, and my smile grew.

Lewa suddenly veered back a step, nearly losing his balance and I yelped, latching onto him once again.

"Don't do that!" he barked, righting his footing before resuming his pace. "You're going to make me crash-fall."

"Sorry," I apologized sheepishly, but I couldn't help looking back through the curtains of rain at the whooping crowd.

From the third window of the second floor, Drake coolly viewed my escape, eyes narrowed in a manner that set uneasiness within me. I couldn't think of the slander he had spewed. Drake was a deranged boy confined to his own cell, ignorant to what he was truly saying. There was nothing worse than Makuta.

Various staff members and the night watchmen congregated on the front porch, shouting excitedly to one another. They pointed in our direction, jabbering ceaselessly like a troupe of monkeys. The watchmen followed their fingers to us, shining flashlights at our backs and screaming orders into walkie-talkies. Not a moment later, the roar of car engines flared in the background, dulled by the harsh patter of the rain.

"They're coming!" I screamed.

Lewa tightened his grip beneath my knees, prompting me to press closer to his back. "Hold on strong-tight!"

He pushed faster, armored feet slamming hard into the sopping grass. He headed straight for the iron fence with all the might and velocity of a stampeding bull. The color drained from my face and my fingers grew cold.

"L-Lewa," I stuttered, eyes wide.

A line of Jeeps swerved around the corners of the facility and came to arrest just in front of the fence. Official personnel as well as security guards stepped out and flooded the border, calling for us to stop or face the consequences. Despite their warnings, Lewa kept his pace, orange eyes fixed upon the fast-approaching black bars and the waiting barrage of people.

"What're you doing? We're heading right for them!" I pointed over his shoulder at the crowd.

"Almost there," Lewa muttered. "Cling-hold with your legs."

His hands detached from me so fast that I barely had time to do as he said, knees locked around his waist. Lewa lowered himself slightly, bending in the same way a football player might stoop to brace for a tackle.

We were nearly upon the fence, perhaps five feet away. It was official: Lewa had gone mad. To think one of the Toa I had longed to see for three years would be my doom. I screwed my eyes shut, buried my face in the armor of his back, said a final prayer and braced for impact.

Lewa leaped mid-stride, flinging his arms out to both sides. Aggressive warnings to halt hurdled over the thick black bars of the fence, but Lewa paid no heed – not even when guns clicked as bullets primed to be launched. Lewa brought his arms down as he landed hard upon the grass, feet slamming deep into the soggy lawn in a spray of mud and in a moment the earth was left far behind in exchange for the stormy sky.

"Wind fly!" Lewa howled.

"Shi-!" My fingers slipped along his armor, groping in vain to maintain my grip, but his armor was slick with rainwater that it was to no avail. Water pelted against my face as the wind whipped it all around, Lewa's aerial ascent bringing us closer and closer to the angry black clouds.

Down below us, the gang of guards and their jeeps craned their necks towards the heavens, pointing in our direction in disbelief. Elation surged within my chest, swelling with pride and victory the smaller the congregation became. They thought their fences could keep everyone in, but what fence could hold a Toa?

I released Lewa and fist pumped with both hands and howled wildly, glaring triumphantly into the yawning pit of dark cloud above us. Finally, after three long years of ridicule and confinement, after everything was taken away from me, my whole world reduced to ashes, I was finally free.

"YEAH!"

A violent bolt of lightning lanced along the rain-swollen bellies of the clouds and my vision was a blank smear of white. I ducked behind Lewa, eyes squeezed tight, and the Toa of Air visibly winced, throwing his arms in front of his mask. The following bellow of thunder deafened both our ears and tossed us away from the strengthening gale. We tumbled end over end through the endless sea of black, fighting the whipping gusts and pelting downpour. Lewa struggled in vain to keep some control; mustering what strength he could over the maelstrom of wind and water, but to no avail. He was thrown about like a useless rag, no more a master of air as a fish is ruler of the sea.

And with each ferocious jolt, my grip slackened by that much. It was difficult enough fighting gravity, but the tempest threatened to rip right off the Toa's back. My muscles burned as I strained to keep my grip, fighting down the mounting panic in my chest. It felt being on the world's fastest rollercoaster: you're sitting down, buckled in and waiting for it to start only to realize the flimsy safety bar keeping you anchored does nothing against the breakneck twists, turns and stomach-lurching loops and it is all you can do to hold on and pray the ride ends soon.

Lewa suddenly banked hard to the left and the action instantly loosened whatever hold I had on the Toa. I tumbled away into the brutal whirlwind, hanging for a moment in nothingness with the earth beneath me and the heavens above. The color instantly drained from my face, limbs growing colder than the gale around us. A scream barely ripped from my throat as I plummeted straight downwards, sinking further and further through the layers of clouds like a rock cutting through water. The soaked strands of my hair thrashed wildly around my face, clumps sticking themselves in my mouth eyes, making it impossible to see and breathe. My hands blindly reached all around for something – anything! – that may halt my descent, but only wisps of stray clouds slipped through my fingers.

"LEWA!"

The crackling lightning and snarling thunder drowned out my voice in a way I could hardly hear it. I screamed the Toa's named until my throat was raw and red, hoping against hope he would swoop in and save me, just like he had done all those years ago when we fought Rahi in Makuta's lair, but as my cries went unanswered I knew he would not be there this time. The storm beat him around as if he were no more than a leaf in a breeze; he was just as helpless as I was.

The cold hands of fear gripped me tightly I could not breathe. I never thought in my bid to escape, it would ultimately be my doom. Perhaps I should have simply stayed within the facility and kept to myself. At least then I would have had some chance of regaining a somewhat normal life. Instead I had risked it all only to have it end like this. Tears seared the edges of my eyes and I curled in on myself, forming as small a ball as possible and buried my head in my hands. If I was to meet my end here . . . I would rather not see it coming.

"CHERYL!"

The call forced my head up and high above me, plummeting through the air like an arrow, was Lewa. His arms were stretched out in front of him, reaching desperately for me, his warm orange eyes wide with panic and determination.

My arm stretched out far beyond I could stretch it, focused on reaching the Toa. He seemed so far away I did not think he would reach me. Our fingers brushed and I felt myself slipping further and further towards the waiting earth. With a cry, I flung my arm out as far as it could and finally clasped with Lewa's open palm.

He held on tight, his grip nearly crushing my hand. The Air Toa arched up, brow crunched in concentration as he dug the heels of his feet downwards as if to slow our descent. Our speed decelerated, but not enough. At the last second, Lewa pulled me into him, squeezing his eyes shut as he braced for impact. We crashed hard into the pavement of the road, Lewa absorbing most of the impact. We rolled away from each other and came to a stop on opposite sides of the road.

I landed flat on my back, staring up through bleary eyes at the torrent of rain and ominous clouds. Every sense seemed mixed up and scattered: every noise was a dull whisper and everything I touched was numbed. A pounding headache beat at my temple and I touched my forehead to find it smeared with warm blood. My shoulder throbbed, all feeling lost to me for a moment before slowly returning.

I sloppily rolled onto my side, pushing myself onto my elbows. Further down, Lewa laid motionless, face down in the pavement. Not a half-mile off was the border of Lakecrest. The lights of the Jeeps twisted in our direction, their yellow light flooding the dark road. We were nearly right back where we started.

" . . . Le . . . Lewa," I moaned. I crawled along the saturated asphalt, my legs dragging behind me. My center of gravity was off balance and I had the incredible urge to fall over. "Come . . . on. Let's g-go."

The nearing roar of the cars drove me to move faster, slithering my way to Lewa's side like a snake desperate to catch a meal. Lewa remained unmoving upon the pavement. His armor was cracked along his back; scuff marks and black scratches from where he hit, adding more grit to his already pitted exterior. A lump formed in my throat, thinking the worst had befallen my companion and rescuer.

"C-come on," I urged, giving him a forceful shake. "We gotta go!" Lewa groaned and I sighed heavily in relief. "Th-thank God."

I inched away from him as he slowly sat up, cradling his mask in his hands. The same damage had been done to his front, but what concerned me was the single long crack running along the length of his cheek, right between the sharp sweeping ridge of his mid-mask and the blocky jaw piece of the lower. A tiny stream of blood leaked out and Lewa clutched at the wound with a hiss.

"You okay? It looks bad," I expressed with concern. If Lewa was unable to use his mask, then that would put us at a disadvantage. Any hope of putting an edge to our escape would crumble and at this point, we needed all the help we could muster.

Lewa pitched forward. I gasped, catching him but unable to keep him up. He was dead weight in my arms and fell like a stone to the road again. I cringed as my maimed shoulder pulled and jerked it out from under the Toa before his mass crushed it.

The growing screech of the car tires set my heart fluttering. They were coming and my only hope for escape was down! My mind's eye flickered with the endless possibilities of what would happen: take me back, grill me for endless hours for everything I know about the island Mata Nui and the Toa, try to squeeze every last detail out of me. Never mind what they would do for Lewa. Pop culture already gave me an idea what they would do to him. I couldn't let that happen.

"I . . . I'm not going to let you take us away!"

Darting through the sheets of rain, I fixed my gaze firmly upon the tires of the oncoming Jeeps, watching the sprays of water rush up over the metallic rims and rubber edges. Cooling numbness rushed through down my arms and pooled at the tips of my fingers. The distance between the cars and me decreased; they were nearly upon me. I cried out and slammed my hands upon the slick asphalt road, a lightning bolt of blue energy electrifying the pools of droplets. Veins of white frost lanced across the road, solidifying every ounce of water they touched. The drenched wheels screeched to a resounding halt, flash freezing in a thick shell of ice. They lost friction and slid across frozen road as easily as a hot knife through butter. The drivers yelped and jerked the wheel, fighting to regain some form of control, but to no avail. The Jeeps veered onto their sides, tumbling end over end before collapsing in one dog pile of wheels, icicles and limbs.

I winced, my stomach sinking. Some of the Jeeps were crushed in, the metallic shells crumpled like useless pieces of paper. Moans echoed from the wreckage as some of the passengers pulled themselves out of the heap and others remained still, too infirm to move. I didn't want anyone to get hurt, only to stop chasing us! The staff and security guards may have been a pain, but not once did I think they deserved to be injured. I sent a silent prayer for the divers' safety and hobbled towards Lewa.

The Toa twitched, brushing his fingers through the icy slush as he slowly pushed himself onto his elbows. He shook his head, touching a hand to the side of his mask. His bleary orange eyes met mine. "What occur-happened?" he muttered. "We were crash-falling and hit rough-hard . . ." His fingers skated upon the frosty road, brow furrowing. "What did you . . .?"

"We really can't talk right now," I insisted. "I promise, Lewa, when we're out of here I'll tell you everything, but we really have to go." I tugged at his arm, coaxing him up as he steadily climbed to his feet. He was sore, battered and bruised, but otherwise Lewa was able to remain standing.

I used his arm as leverage as I rose up, hissing as my skin splintered and released blood. Both my knees were scraped, as if I had been in a nasty bike accident, the material of my soaking pajamas stripped and shredded. The ache in my shoulder returned full force and exhaustion suddenly overpowered me as the adrenaline wore off. I panted, shakes settling into my hands.

"Can you move-walk?" Lewa wondered, concerned. "You're injured-hurt pretty bad."

"Just get us out of here," I growled. Irritation and fatigue lathered my voice. Even though Lewa was concerned and trying to help, I could not find it in me to care at this point. I was exhausted, hurt, and just wanted to rest.

Lewa carefully slipped me again onto his back and instantly I sank into him, pressing my cheek to the rain-washed armor. I swam in and out of consciousness, unable to fight off the sudden onslaught of sleep. My eyes grew heavy and slipped closed, but my mind buzzed with activity. A whirlwind of noise, voices and recollections raged within my thoughts: mistaking Lewa for a Makuta, my marathon through the hallways of Lakecrest, rushing outside into the cold, rainy night, discovering the fate of Mata Nui, the hunt by Lakecrest staff, nearly falling to my death, and flash freezing the road to buy Lewa and me time to escape. Everything escalated into a crescendo of white noise. My head throbbed with a headache. The ceaseless clamor slowly began to fade, diminishing bit by bit along with my consciousness. I groaned, hiding further against Lewa's back as the drizzle showered gently upon us and I gave into sleep.


	4. Chapter 3

The breath suddenly burst from my lungs and I gagged, swallowing mouthfuls of salty water. My eyes snapped open only to shut again with the sting of stirring, rocky silt. I kicked hard through the torrents of water, breaking the surface, only to be forced back down to the churning depths. My body tumbled end over end like a ragdoll, cradled on all sides by chilling coldness. I flailed helplessly, struggling to find footing but each time my toes sank into the soft mud they were swept out from underneath me. My lungs strained for breath and my eyes stung with blindness. I thought for sure I would drown, but the ocean spat me out onto the shore in a spray of bubbles.

I rolled onto my belly and coughed hard, spitting up gallons of the brackish water. Smaller waves rushed over my legs and hands to retrieve it and pull it back to the writhing ocean. The last drops were squeezed from my lungs and I greedily drank mouthfuls of sweet, delicious air. It wasn't bad enough I ran through the rain, but now I was thoroughly soaked to the bone from an unexpected swim in the ocean. The foul bitterness of sea salt clung to my mouth and it ran dry. I sat on my knees and rubbed the grit out of my eyes, but my hands and sleeves were so saturated with the water and sand it only made things worse. My eyes watered and I squeezed them all the tighter as tears coursed down my face. I shook my head and groped around helplessly for anything that would relieve the stubborn pain.

"Lewa!" I called, waving both hands around me. "Lewa, where are you?"

The sand crunched to my left and instantly I turned, reaching out to the approaching figure. "I can't see. What happened?"

"We land-arrived on Mata Nui," Lewa informed.

He knelt down and raised a hand in front of my face, blasting a steady stream of air onto my eyes. Goose pimples rippled across my form and the cleansing tears flew away on the breeze, carrying the contaminants along with them. I signaled for him to stop and dared open my eyes. Blurred, colorless shapes greeted me and I blinked, my vision correcting little by little until I was able to see the clear figure of Lewa before me.

"Thanks for that," I nodded. He held up a hand and I gladly took it, pulling myself from the lapping waves.

The sleeves of my button-up pajama shirt hung from my arms and the cuffs of my pants weighed heavily with water. I squeezed what I could from them, but the oncoming water only saturated them again. I found a spot further up the beach where I could remove the water properly, soaking the sand with buckets of frigid water.

A thick fog rolled in from all sides, shrouding the beach with damp, gray film. Lewa cut through the misty curtain to join my side as I rose to swat the sand clinging stubbornly to my pajamas.

"Next time we're about to dive into the ocean, warn me," I pleaded.

"I held-grasped onto you as much-best I could," Lewa defended with a shrug, "but you can never predict-tell with portals and dimensional passage-gates. They drop-dump you anywhere." He smirked. "And with you sleep-resting so peace-quiet, how could I disturb-bother you? Would have been bad-rude of me to do so."

"Oh how considerate of you," I grumbled with a roll of my eyes. "Is that why you tapped on my window in the middle of the night and woke me up?"

"How else was supposed to grab-get your attention-focus? I can't walk-barge in," he argued. "'Never attention-mind me, human-people, I am search-looking for a Apprentice-Toa. Do you know-think where I can locate-find her?'"

My mouth overflowed with giggles. "Imagine the look on their faces! Man, I don't think they'd be questioning me now. That counselor guy would have had a heart attack if you showed up. Knock the fake mask right off that toy."

It annoyed me each time I thought of the figurine. It was a watered down version of the fearsome Toa it represented. It made me glad I had never seen one of Lewa . . . and especially Kopaka. If the toymakers had known they existed, I bet they would have made an extra effort to make the models accurately. I growled, shoving the thoughts aside.

"So there was a portal?" I suddenly asked. Dusting my hands of the coarse grains, I met Lewa's orange eyes. "I mean, that's how we got here, right, but why aren't you wearing the dimension mask thing?"

"I said-told you before," Lewa began, "your world-home is packed-full of portal-holes. I don't require-need a mask." He hummed in thought, cupping his chin between his forefinger and thumb. "Now that I ponder-think about it, it's a wonder-miracle your home-world isn't swarm-flooded with Makuta."

"At least there isn't and that's all that matters," I nodded. Still, Lewa had a point. If he could easily access my world without any qualms, it made me question why other, more sinister beings hadn't. I shivered.

"So . . . we're really here?" I asked carefully. "I'm back?"

Lewa nodded and took a sweeping glance down both sides of the beach, expression forlorn and sour. "Return-back to Mata Nui . . . or what left-remains of it," he mumbled.

Mata Nui. The words alone left me awestruck. When I first came as a child, the island left me breathless with its beauty and purity. It was an unspoiled Eden void of any pollution, concrete and waste that accompanied modernity. Even the structures built by the Matoran held the essence of the elements around them and were almost in harmony with them. It was everything anyone could ever hope for, a true island paradise. When I left, I was certain I'd never come back; all of the efforts I tried ending in utter failure. Still, there was a part of me that hoped I would return and it was a comfort to know my hopes weren't in vain.

"YES!" I jumped straight into the air, both fists raised in delight. "Woo-hoo! I'm back! I'm back! I can't believe it." My trembling hands combed through the sopping strands of my hair. "This is so crazy. I've always thought I'd come back, but now I'm actually here, and you're here –" I gestured to Lewa – "and . . . This is so cool! Oh man, I need to tell everybody. We need to get the other Toa. I want to see Mount Ihu, see the Matoran again, tell Kopaka I'm sorry and –!"

"It is not that quick-easy," Lewa cut in. The bitter expression had not left his mask. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest and the bright orange eyes that usually held so much warmth were shrouded in grief. "We cannot just stroll-march out in the open anymore. In fact . . ." Lewa took a sweeping glance down both sides of the beach and grasped my arm, tugging me up the sand slope. "We should not be exposed-out like this."

"Wait, Lewa?" I nearly lost my balance, stumbling over my feet as the Toa dragged me along. "What is it? What's going on?" The mist had thinned some, but even through the wispy curtain there was nothing of concern. It was just a quiet beach.

"We cannot stay-linger here," he muttered, dragging me along.

He frantically scanned the length of the beach on both directions. Even the thick line of the trees offered no refuge. Lewa pressed against the trunk of a tree, pulling my close to his side as he tentatively peered around the outline of the hefty stem.

I couldn't understand his trepidation. We should be able to move around freely. Why was Lewa acting as if there was something out there, something dangerous?

He turned back to me. "I do not prefer-like to ground-walk," he admitted, "but we don't have a choice-option." Lewa swiped a hand along the tree, capturing a handful of fine, black dust. It was then I noticed the tree was no more than an ashy stump, hollowed out as if by a great fire. In fact, the entire forest was burnt to husks.

" . . . Lewa?" My widened eyes drank in the damage in disbelief. This had been a thriving jungle bursting with life; home to flowers and animals I didn't even know existed. What could have caused such devastation?

"This is not the bad-worst of it," the Toa sighed solemnly. He scraped the charcoal upon my face, dousing it the powdery grime. "Put-spread as much of this on you as you able-can. Cover-hide your face."

"What?" I squeezed my eyes shut as Lewa smothered them, scrubbing as much of the gritty ashes onto every corner of my face – even my ears! I waved him off, stepping back to put distance between us. "Hey! What're you doing?" I ran my hands over my eyes and mouth, smearing my hands with black.

"Do not clean-wipe it off!" Lewa suddenly barked. He cringed, glancing over both shoulders and leaned in, as if sharing a secret. "Many evil-bad things In Mata Nui now. If they catch a Toa-hero or Apprentice . . ." He shook his head. "We must be hidden-disguised."

Lewa took a handful of dust and proceeded to cover the armor on his arms, making sure every part of him was smothered in a deep layer of black. He held one arm against the trunk of the tree, blending seamlessly into the charred bark. "Like that."

I nodded, quickly dousing myself in as much charcoal as I could. It muddied my soaking clothes and caked on my skin, but I layered it on as much as I could, testing it against the tree every so often until it was just right.

I stood before the Toa and, while waiting for him to finish, drank in the destruction. Usually after a fire, there was some evidence of life. Flame-thriving flora poked out from clumps of ashes or small leaves sprang up on branches, renewed under the fire's harsh touch, but here there was nothing. Not one green leaf, not the bright petals of a flower, not even moss or a toadstool. Whatever doled out such atrocity didn't want anything to grow again.

"You said Makuta turned Matoran to Ghosts," I muttered, " and slaughtered the Turaga, but I don't think even they can cause such havoc. I mean, what kind of Matoran uses fire?" I scooped up a clump of root and squeezed as it disintegrated in my hand. "Sebastian controlled earth and Arc is ice like me. If anything this whole place should be a crater or another Ko-Wahi."

"Matoran do not have to master-control fire in order to wield-use it," Lewa reminded. "Not to speak-mention, Makuta has many power-abilities. Mata Nui knows what he's capable of."

Lewa stood with his back to the tree, crossing his arms over his chest and folding his legs together. When he shut his eyes, he was nearly invisible. He look like a mummy just pulled out of his sarcophagus.

"Wow, nice job!" I smiled.

Lewa eased open his eyes to mere slits, unable to hide a broad grin. "Couldn't have done a better-good if I possessed-had a Mask of Concealment."

He leaned off the tree, leaving a Toa-shaped silhouette against the trunk. It wasn't too noticeable, but there was just enough variance in the value of the charcoal to make a slight different. I pressed into the bark, morphing into the contours of the trunk as best I could. A grin split my face as Lewa whistled.

"A fine-good master of camouflage yourself!" he praised.

"I used to decorate the cakes down at the bakery," I shrugged, peeling off the scorched trunk.

"Did you?" Lewa asked.

I shook my head. "No. I can't bake. I can't even draw."

"Then you must practice-work on that. If you can search-find something to scribble-draw with, then you can be a terrific-great Chronicler," Lewa grinned. "I would like to see my face-mask carved into a story-legend."

I grinned. "Lewa, no matter how great an artist is, I don't think they could ever capture your true magnificence."

Lewa laughed. "Mata Nui, I missed you!"

A blush burned itself beneath my ashy mask. "What about everyone else?" I asked. "Do they miss me?"

The Toa's mirth vanished in an instant, morphing into uncertainty spiced with trepidation. "That is to be debate-argued," he admitted.

X We kept close to the outer circle of the Wahi, slinking between stumps and blending into trees with every step and the further we trekked the deeper my stomach sank lower and lower. There was no birdsong or distant grunting of Rahi warning us to keep our distance and the ash-laden earth muffled our footsteps. The silence permeated every bough, every husk and even into our minds.

The acrid stench of smoke burned my nose and Lewa chided me with each cough I let slip by. I had always thought burning firewood was an unpleasant aroma, but dead lumber was a nicer smell than when foliage was still alive.

"We both said Matoran couldn't have done this," I murmured quietly, gaze locked on the passing landscape, "and doing something like this would be a little petty for Makuta." I stared into Lewa's back, eyes watery. "Lewa, what did this?"

The Toa was silent, keeping pace with his march. He observed the scenery, drinking in the atrocity. His amber eyes betrayed the pain hidden behind his mask. " . . . The damage-harm had begun-started before I arrive-came."

His voice was robbed of its usual cheer and it chilled me. His gait slowed, becoming no more than a slothful drag of his feet.

"The Le-Matoran Gukko Force had spotted-seen smoke along the jungle-trees. It wasn't uncommon-strange to have occasional fire-blaze – it is healthy-good – but it was large-great, more than it should have been. I travel-went to probe-inspect . . . leaving the Turaga-elder and Matoran alone . . ." His voice caught and he swallowed it back. "The source-cause of the inferno-blaze was a pile-cluster of brush-plants, but they were healthy-fine. Normal-usually it is deceased-dying matter that catches-burns. Then new-more emerge-appeared, travel-going deeper into the Wahi. The Gukko Force aided-helped me, but the second-moment they approach-loomed they fell-dropped right from the air-sky!"

Lewa paused, staring blankly into the dirt. "It occur-happened over and over without reason-cause until there was none remaining-left. I rush-scrambled to assist them, but . . . it was too late. They lied there like broken toy-things, their Gukko by their sides . . ."

"My God," I whispered.

"I couldn't doddle-tarry," Lewa continued. "There were plenty of other Matoran that could still be rescued and whatever was lurking about was still at large.

"As fast as I could I raced back to the Koro, a thick curtain of smoke rising all around the forest. Birds flocked to the skies and Rahi fled, bellowing and stampeding. In the distance, the drums of Le-Koro sounded followed by the blaring of horns. I used all my might to reach them, get to them in time . . . then the explosions begun. Trees rocketed into the sky in a shower of sparks and dirt from all sides; the noise was deafening.

"I was nearly caught in one such rush and flung from the air, crash-dropping to the ground and in the path of a Rahkshi, one of the Makuta's sons. It was one of the beings causing the carnage. It raised it staff to finish me, but a quick air blast shoved it off, shattering its armor against the trunk of a burning tree, sizzling the kraata inside. Its shrieks drew the attention of other Rahkshi and I battled them for far too long.

"Once defeated, I hurried to Le-Koro . . . and found it throw into utter chaos. Huts were in ruin, crumbled to dust or collapsing under the weight of their burning roofs and walls. Matoran scattered in every direction, fleeing, fighting . . . dying. Their valiant efforts were futile against the surge of the Rahkshi that descended upon them.

They were herded about like Rahi, backs pressed to a wall of flame, defenseless! I fought for them, it is my duty to protect them . . . after all they had done for me . . . and I failed them!" Lewa kicked the ground and sent a shower of glowing embers into the air.

"But you said you got some out," I reminded, voice strained. "You said they're with the other Matoran." Lewa's mask twisted into a glare and my mouth became dry of words.

"What good is a couple dozen from a village of more than 150?" the Toa question.

My chest heaved, throat swelling with emotion. "Better those couple dozen than none at all." I furiously wiped the wetness from my eyes. "You still have some of your people –they still depend on you!"

"What of those who did not escape-flee?" Lewa demanded, his voice catching. "Do the ones that are alive-well account for their brother-friends – their Turaga?!"

I swallowed hard. "I know it hurts," – my voice broke – "but that's why you brought me back, isn't it? I let all of this happen." Tears blurred Lewa's image and muddied the charcoal dust on my face. Crushing pressure weighed in my chest and I lost my breath. "I-I'm . . . s-sorry . . .!"

Lewa grasped my shoulder and pulled me to him, crushing me against his armor. I held him back, gritting my teeth as the tears flowed. The Toa dropped to one knee and embraced me tighter, rubbing my back and squeezing as my breathy gasps hitched.

" . . . No one blame-accuses you," he whispered. "We know-realize who the real-true enemy-foe is."

Branches snapped in the near distance, as if someone was walking and we jerked away. I glanced over my shoulder, scanning plumes of dust and small licks of flame. Lewa released me, standing to his full height.

"We have linger-stayed here too long." The noises quickened, drawing closer and louder. "Flee-run!"

He latched onto my arm with a fierce grip and we were off, darting across the charred landscape and kicking up clouds of gray dust that enveloped us within a thick, chalky mist, but it did nothing to deter whatever was following us. In fact, the third pair of footsteps was only drawing closer, hastening in pace. The plumes of smoky ash caught in my nose and mouth and I gagged, losing breath. I pulled on Lewa's arm and dug my heels into the powdery ground.

"S-stop!" I coughed hard into my elbow, but Lewa only shoved me.

"No time!" he commanded in a harsh whisper.

There was no time. The stranger was nearly upon us, a couple yards or less, and the more we ran, the more we drew it to us. Lewa acted fast and fled from our path into another portion of the forest where the trees were thicker, kicking up shrouds of dust.

"Cover-hide!" Lewa rooted through the blackened husk and pulled entire trunks apart, scattering the pieces about to douse the glowing embers within. He pulled them up and leaned them against other fallen branches and trunks, building a pile.

"What're you doing?" I hissed. "It'll see you!"

My eyes zeroed in on a nearly intact trunk lying upon the ground. Its roots were all about stunted tendrils and fire had hollowed out the middle at one end, leaving the other fully intact and hardened into nothing short of iron. I stuck a leg in first, the wood scraping against fabric and flesh, and then the other until the dead stalk swallowed me up to my waist. It was a tight squeeze and the more I wormed into the log the more worried I became that I may stick, but better to be buried in a tree than in the ground.

"Find something like this." My voice echoed through pockmarks and holes riddled throughout the trunk.

Lewa's mask appeared within the hole of the trunk, blocking out the gray light. "And if it locate-finds you there you'll be a goner!" He reached in and groped about the hollow, coming just shy of my nose. "Get out of there!"

I slapped his hand away. "We won't find out until it actually happens," I snapped a little louder than I had intended. "It'll be worse for you if you keep standing in the open like that. Go!" I waved him off, but the Toa of Air refused to leave, flicking his anxious gaze from me to the wood and back again. "What're you still standing there for? Go!"

The Toa gave a stiff nod and vanished, leaving my view of the outside world intact. Branches snapped and creaked under his manipulation until all fell silent, save for the whisper of a loose breeze through the aching trees. Dust and ash whirled about in soft breaths of wind. The log and other stalks like it bent and groaned and my fear grew. It swelled my chest, constricting and tightening the already close space, and doubt poisoned my mind. The more I stared into the open wood, the more I feared for my safety. It would be all too easy to peek in, all too easy to be discovered, and perhaps Lewa was right. I wriggled within the claustrophobic space, scraping my knees against the harsh wood, and reached for the outer ring of the trunk. My fingers fell just shy of the rim. I pushed against the solid end of the log, squeezed like a grub caught in its borrow, and nearly touched the curve of the opening.

All at once the crunch of boots came onto the scene, approaching from the West, and drawing ever nearer. The icy touch of fear spread like a frost throughout my being. I pulled my hands back, as if bitten, and retreated into the cover of my hole. The drum of my heart nearly drowned out the stranger's approach. My breath was frenzied and in my attempt to soothe it, I became suffocated rather than hushed. A soft thud knocked against the log and I bit my knuckle hard enough to draw blood. The sense and reason that often rescued the unfortunate deserted me and all that was left was the irrational dread of a victim waiting for a merciful blow.

The stranger paced about slowly, deliberately taking its time for a thorough search of the burnt glade. His steps stretched from my log to a little towards the East, closer to where I had last heard Lewa's movements, and then back to pause close by, but distant enough not to cause immediate panic.

I dared to raise my head and gaze through one of the small holes burned all the way through the trunk. The gap was marred with splinters and soot, but the view was enough to see the hunter. He was tall and stoutly built, but whether it was due to his heavy layer of armor or his genuine frame was difficult to tell. A mask, though not a Kanohi mask, shielded his face from view, right down to his chin and neck. In fact, he was nearly covered from head to toe. A series of tubes were attached to his boots and gauntlets, sort of like retractable hoses, and with each step there came the high-pitched hiss of water on fire. I couldn't tell if he was human, some warped Toa or a new breed of enemy I had yet to learn the name of. What was doubtless was the sword strapped to his side. He was armed, no doubt dangerous, and he was looking for us.

The green pools of the goggles mounted upon his mask shifted and we were eye to eye. Stifling a gasp, I dropped to the log floor, shielding my face. The hunter approached, a little quicker than before. A knot twisted in my stomach and my eyes screwed shut. This was it. My mind ran wild with what I was to do. There was more of a chance he would finish me off as soon as look at me, but if I was somehow faster and landed the first blow, perhaps it would buy enough time to give Lewa an edge to advance an attack and for me to escape.

His approach slowed, but not the panic in my heart. My fingers twitched. Ribbons of crystalline frost spread before me, building layer upon layer into the comfortable shape of an ice dagger. The hunter was nearly upon the log. The pressurized hiss of the strange tubes was loud in my ear. I squeezed the rough, slender blade in my palm. I had to be quick.

A loud thump sprang up from the ground nearby as if something heavy dropped itself upon the earth. Moments later, a thunderous crash erupted from the same region. I squeezed to the opposite side of the log and found another peephole to watch his exit. He drifted further and further from the glade until he was all but a dot upon the gray horizon.

My breath escaped in a long, noiseless whistle and I rested against the log, heart in my throat. Drops of sweat chilled upon my brow and I loosened the grip on the ice dagger. Moments later, it melted into slush. I've encountered many scary things within the last few years, more than I could care to write down, but this close encounter easily squeezed into the Top Ten. I buried my head in my hands and laughed.

"What're you laugh-giggling about?" Lewa appeared in the mouth of the log, expression stern.

"It was so close!" I snickered. I heaved a deep, calming breath, but to no avail. My throat tickled with mirth and I sunk my face into my palms. "I mean, he was right there! He was so close to finding me and all a sudden something drew him away at the last moment? It was like one of those cartoons."

"And if I hadn't he would have capture-trapped you," Lewa snapped, "and I don't believe-think he would take-bring you to a celebration-party." He reached in and yanked me out roughly, tearing bloodless scratches on my knees and toes. He set me upon the ground, glared into my eyes and suddenly broke out into a wide smile. "But it was near miss and I hope-pray to Mata Nui we never experience-encounter another one!"


	5. Chapter 4

X We walked a long way after that, being sure to keep cover in case the mysterious hunter or anything else malicious showed up. We erased our footprints as an extra precaution, sweeping the ground behind us with halfway decent branches that still retained some leaves. The work slowed our pace, but it was better to be cautious.

The terrain morphed from a wide, desolate wasteland to an enclosed pit that wasn't unlike a cavern. Here, trees clung to some semblance of life and bunched together in great masses, as if proximity would keep them alive that much longer. Leaf-litter and twigs were discernible rather than being a flat layer of dust. Lewa said this place was once a thriving swamp, home to some of the most diverse ecosystem of Rahi and plants on Mata Nui. It even boasted pockets of freshwater where Matoran regularly drew from – and had been on the receiving end of a few Nui Rama stings because of it – and it was because of a high water table that the area had somehow managed to endure even after the fire.

"But even with all its strength-might it cannot grow-thrive," Lewa sighed. He kicked up over a pile of rotting vegetation. "The land is ill-sick; nothing grows anymore and not even the power-force of the Toa-heroes can bring it back."

"And it's like this everywhere?" I asked, filling in the sunken, watery pits left by Lewa and mine footsteps.

"Some place-spots are better-good than others," he admitted, "but not like they were when you were first here." Lewa ducked low beneath a canopy of limp ferns and tree stalks, nearly shuffling on his knees, and he dropped a curtain of the sickly green stuff after I slipped underneath. "We've been lucky-fortunate in Onu-Wahi," he continued, "but it's not ideal-perfect. We barley-just have sufficient-enough water, even with Gali-sister's help, and ration-food is becoming scarce-short. The only miracle-blessing is we haven't been attack-bothered, for which I am very thankful-pleased, but the stranger-guest we saw concern-worries me."

"Well, have you guys made it blatantly obvious where you are?" I asked.

Lewa shrugged. "If we have, Makuta hasn't acted-worked upon it, but that doesn't mean he won't eventually. Don't worry-fret though. The next time Makuta attack-hits us, we'll be prepared-ready."

"With everything you've been telling me, it sounds like you guys are on your last legs."

"Well, maybe," Lewa reluctantly admitted, "but even with darkness-shadow all around, there's always a light-glow." He smiled. "Especially since now you are here."

I raised a brow. "Any reason why it's me specifically?"

"You're a Toa-hero," Lewa explained, "and whenever a Toa-hero is close-near, Makuta fear-worries."

"Well with that logic he should have ran in fear a long time ago!" I countered with a half-hearted laugh.

"Correct-true," Lewa agreed with a slight nod, "but sometimes Makuta isn't very wise-smart. He didn't learn the first time we Toa-heroes defeated-beat him. I guess it takes a few times for the lesson to sink-register."

"The world's full of stubborn, thick-headed people," I said softly. "Of course you know that."

"Somehow they end up being the type-sort that survive-lives."

The marshy ground dipped slightly, then a little more and more still until Lewa and I scaled a steep downgrade. A section of the swamp floor had fallen away in some cataclysmic event - it didn't look like it was the fire. Could have been an earthquake or the ground became so heavy with water there was nothing for the roots and earth to hold onto anymore - leaving nothing but a wall of wet soil and suspended roots. There were even some spots where water from above leaked from gaps in the soggy wall. One good rainstorm would surely bring the grade down until nothing but a gaping pit remained. Our feet slipped in the mud and I nearly lost my footing at least twice, but not before landing backside first into the squishy dirt. I finally resolved to just inch along with my hands and toes firmly dug into the hillside. When I reached the bottom, Lewa was already waiting for me, covered in mud from the knees down.

"I'm looking forward to a bath after this," I groaned. I smeared the mud off on my shirt and pants as best I could, but I only succeeded in making myself colder and filthier than I already was.

"I would think you'd be sick-tired of the water after tonight," Lewa smiled. "Maybe you should have been Gali-sister's Apprentice!"

"Well, ice is a state of water," I pointed out. Still, I would rather be soaked with rain, waves, puddles or anything else than pelted with sleet, snow, and hail.

My eyes wandered a little past Lewa and there was nothing but a solid wall of greenery and towering cliffs on all sides. The slope we had scaled dropped us off into little more than a pit. The rainwater that had cascaded from the ground above had collected into a decent pool that measured just a little above my ankles. The dirt underfoot was thick and threatened to cement me firmly in place lest I not take a step. I raised my foot above the pool and the silty muck released me with a sickening _schlep!_

"What're we doing here?" I questioned. "It's nothing but a dead end."

A mischievous glint flickered in Lewa's orange eyes. "Is it?" Without any explanation, he walked - rather clumsily; he seemed more disturbed by the water than me - towards the wall of ferns and hanging vines in front of us.

"You know that's a dead end," I stated, as if the Toa couldn't obviously see it.

What was he going to do, climb the wall? Granted, the plants were thick enough to possibly hold his weight, even if the roots were loosened by the rain, but it would have defeated the purpose of sliding into the crater in the first place. If he was thinking about walking straight through it, well, that's just dumb. But still the Toa kept on walking forward as if the wall wasn't there at all. He broke through the first few bushes and ferns until he was entirely engulfed by them and then he was gone.

"Lewa?" I tilted my head and dared a couple steps closer, water and mud sloshing around my legs. "Lewa?" I craned my neck, trying to peer through the tangled web of foliage. "Hey!"

"Come on!" Lewa's voice echoed from the green curtain. "Get in here before someone sees-looks."

I hesitated, but if Lewa was alive after his disappearance, I had no room to distrust him. After making sure no unwelcome eyes were upon me, I walked straight into the line of ferns. My arms were stretched out in front of me in case I somehow did hit a wall, but I really should have been keeping track of my feet. No sooner than a few steps in, the ground beneath me opened up and a yawning pit lay beneath of me. A scream tore from my throat as I suddenly plummeted down, unable to catch myself on the lip of the gorge. My hands flung out beneath me just in time to somewhat cushion my fall, but the impact sent an uncomfortable shockwave of shivers throughout my body. I landed on hands and knees in an even deeper puddle concealing a hard bed of stone and it only succeeded in bruising them further. I steadily climbed to my feet, trying to shake off the feeling of pins and needles in my limbs.

Lewa approached from further into the cave, hands on his hips and confusion on his mask. "You know, when I meant-intended for you to 'come on', I did not command-say fall-drop."

"Well you didn't say I'd be falling into a pit," I screeched. "For all I know, you could have pulled some invisibility trick or something." Stepping out of the water, I finally managed to tread on dry ground. Well, as dry as a damp, subterranean cave can get. "Where are we?"

Lewa gestured to the tunnel stretched out before us. "We are in tunnel-passage that'll take-bring us to Onu-Wahi. It used to be a fire-lava tube that ran-travelled from the mighty-great volcano in the center-middle of the island. Onua-brother found it while dig-tunneling one day."

"And how long will it take us to get to Onu-Wahi?" I asked.

Lewa shrugged. "If I had to estimate-guess, maybe another kio or so."

"That sounds kind of far."

"It's a decent-good walk-pace," Lewa agreed, "but it won't get any small-shorter if we don't begin-start stride-walking."

X I didn't know how far a kio was, but it certainly wasn't as long as I expected it to be. It was not even twenty minutes or so when Lewa and I drew upon a dead end. Now I was sure Lewa was pulling my leg. There was a huge stone wall the stretched from ceiling to floor; there was no way either of us were getting past it. Of course, that didn't stop Lewa from sliding his hands along a section of the wall and tapping twice one a small crack. A rectangular portion of the rock just below Lewa's chin pulled away, as if it were no more than a curtain, and the Toa stooped down to peer through it.

"Toa Lewa!" the voice from behind the slot gasped.

The slot closed shut again and not a moment later, the wall split in half down the center and swung outwards in two doors. Two Matoran, an Onu- and Ta-Matoran, stood in the gap between the doors.

I can honestly say I had never smiled wider in my life. Just seeing Matoran again lifted my spirits from the cold rain that had dampened them.

"We're so glad you're back!" the Onu-Matoran said, running up to Lewa's side. He grinned from one corner of his mask to the other. "You left all of a sudden and without telling anyone. Tahu's been in a fury since you've gone."

"Has he?" Lewa hummed. "Well, can't say I'm shocked-surprised. The old fire-spitter as a lot-much to worry-fret over."

"Then you should not have left," the Ta-Matoran suddenly said. His mask twisted in a disapproving frown.

"Jaller!" the Onu-Matoran gasped.

"I know I shouldn't say anything, Toa," Jaller continued, "but we need you. What if something happened while you were gone?"

Lewa nodded. "You're correct-right, but at least the universe-world would have been aware-known about the courageous-brave Toa-heroes and Matoran-villagers that stood-fought against the evil-bad Makuta." When neither Matoran cracked a smile, Lewa allowed his jokes to drop. "But the reason-cause for my absence was, well, her."

He pointed to me and I suddenly froze under both Matorans' gazes. Their amber eyes widened in utter surprise then twisted into confusion and even . . . spite? Yes, in Jaller's eyes there was a flicker of absolute distrust, as if I had committed the ultimate crime. It was a look I would be seeing rather often.

"Is that . . .?" the Onu-Matoran softly asked, pointing at me. His mouth hung open in a gawking gape.

"Yep!" Lewa waved me over and, after a few awkward shuffles, he pulled me up against his side, hand on my shoulder. "Another Toa-hero to join the fight. Now, can we pass-move?"

There was a moment of hesitation as the Onu-Matoran looked to Jaller. The golden-masked Matoran never altered his stern expression, but he ultimately nodded in the end. The pair stepped aside and we strolled through the gates and continued on through the remainder of the tunnel.

The way was lit with lightstones embedded into the walls, bathing our path in a hazy, amber glow. Water dripped from tiny cracks in the ceiling, no doubt from the deluge still drizzling above, and formed tiny pools in little little pits eroded into the floor. I stole a glance every once in a while and what stared back was a no more than a wet Chihuahua. My skin looked at least two shades paler and my salt and pepper hair hung like a used mop upon my head. I was looking forward to a warm pair of clothes, maybe even some hot food, and, of course, a good night's sleep. I put a hand to my mouth to hide a yawn. I hadn't realized how tired I actually was.

The good thing was there were no Matoran in this part of the tunnel. It was probably because it was just the front entrance that led to actual village of Onu-Koro, but the reception by the two at the gate didn't make me look forward to seeing anymore. The way the Onu-Matoran continued to stare at me and the venomous look from Jaller was as if I were no more than a shadow that had suddenly been brought into the light and they didn't like what he had seen.

Did everyone think of me that way? Was I right in even coming back? The possibility of no one wanting me back never crossed my mind, even for a moment. I mean, I had essentially defeated Makuta . . . or did something to him. To this day I can't quite remember what happened in Makuta's lair, but I knew it had to have been something significant. If I didn't beat him, then I might have crippled him, but after the damage I saw above and what happened to everyone, perhaps the Matoran were right in giving me those glares. If I hadn't antagonized Makuta or even looked for Arc, then perhaps they would be better off.

But if Lewa went out of his way to come get me, even to the point of worrying Tahu, then not everyone could have opposed my return. Clearly the Toa wanted me back, or at least Lewa did. It wasn't as if it was my choice to leave in the first place anyway. Kopaka was the one who shoved me through that wormhole. I know he was just trying to protect me from Sebastian - if I can even call him that anymore - but did he think what that would have meant when I came back? If anyone should be blamed for the Matoran hating me, it was him. When I found him, I would be sure to give Kopaka a few choice words.

Those words only strengthened in intensity as we walked further and further through the lava tube. The walls were incised with chisel marks; a few at first then more and more until the rock was serrated and chipped from the hammering of so many tools. Some of the equipment was even left scattered around on the floor, but of the laborers themselves there wasn't a sign. At least, not yet. They began to appear the more steps we took, a couple at first, then a few, a half dozen, a dozen until there was such a crowd I knew we had stepped into the koro.

I was nearly rendered speechless. Even though I had seen other koro before, Onu-koro was something to behold. It was like a colossal cave times ten, stretching further and wider and higher than I could even see. The only hint there was even a ceiling were the waterfalls of light stretching down from above. The walls stretched upwards in a way that reminded me of a beehive: pockmarked with honeycomb-like caves - houses perhaps, - bookmarked with blue lightstones. There weren't many caves along the edges of the ground, only a handful at most, which left plenty of room for the makeshift tents and shelters. I frowned, a pit falling in my stomach. The shelters were little more than tarps pulled over poles stuck int he ground and the shacks were no better. If those homes - if you could even call them that - had eyes, they would have the same hollow look as the Matoran that emerged from them.

Just as with the guards, the Matoran stared incredulously, whispering and pointing fingers. Some of them even took off deeper into the village. I could only guess who they would fetch. I was careful to keep close to Lewa's side while I stared at each mask, each questioning expression. What were they thinking? Which ones saw me as the traitor? Which ones saw me as the aider? Which ones . . . saw nothing?

"Don't be scare-frightened," Lewa assured and I whipped my gaze to his. He was stuck beside me, his hand never leaving my shoulder as he ushered me further into the koro.

"I'm not," I replied.

He smiled. "Good-fine. You better not be."

I quirked a brow and couldn't help an involuntary shiver. I thought it was just from being cold and wet, but maybe . . .  
"Lewa Nuva!"

The outburst caused both of us to jump, as well as some of the Matoran that trailed behind just. I stepped just behind Lewa, ready to make a dash for a safe place to hide, but the owner of the voice rushed up too quickly for me to do so. He crashed into Lewa at almost full force, nearly knocking the green-armored Toa over and onto a handful of Matoran. I quickly jumped away and gawked in mild relief as Onua steadied his enormous hands on Lewa's shoulders.

"Dwelling empty, no note!" the Earth Toa seethed, gazing sternly at his younger brother. "No one knew where you were! You could have died - you could have been seen and we wouldn't have known it!"

Lewa grinned sheepishly and pushed slightly on Onua's shoulder, separating them a few inches. "Good-fine to look-see you too."  
"Don't smirk at me!" Onua continued to roar. He gave Lewa a small shake. "It's bad enough we have to worry about Matoran disappearing. The least you could have done was _tell_ us where you were going. One of us would have gone with you - or talked you out of whatever it was that you were -"  
Onua's emerald eyes drifted over Lewa's shoulder, pierced through the crowd of Matoran, and zeroed in on me. His jaw dropped so low I thought it may hit the floor. His eyes were nearly as wide as the large holes in his mask that surrounded them. His voice had ceased to work; all he could do was manage a few squeaks.

With my face burning, and after a couple shifts of my eyes, I offered up a lopsided smile and a small wave. "Hi, Onua."  
Onua's gaze trailed back to Lewa. The Air Toa held up a hand. "Wait-hold," he instructed, "I can explain-clarify."  
"You went _there_?" Onua breathed with a disbelieving shake of his head.

"They were keep-holding her in prison-jail!" Lewa explained.  
"Would it be any different if Makuta put her in a cell?" Onua barked, startling the green-armored hero. "Of course, I don't blame you, Cheryl," he quickly added. "Sometimes I forget how unwise my fellow Toa can be."

"But it wasn't his fault," I replied. I stepped between the pair. "I had wanted to come back. If Lewa hadn't gotten me out, I don't know what would have happened. Besides, it sounds like you guys need my help."

"How much did you tell her?" Onua questioned angrily.  
Lewa itched between the metallic rings on his neck. " . . . Enough . . ."  
"He told me everything," I confessed, much to Onua's dismay. "I know all about what's happened since I left, how many you've lost, even what's happened to all of you." I motioned to the Earth Toa. "After hearing everything, I had to come back. I couldn't leave you guys all alone to clean up my mess."  
Onua bent down on one knee and placed his hands on my shoulders. "Your heart is in the right place, Cheryl. You would have done what any Toa would do . . . but I'm afraid your journey here may be for naught." He frowned up at Lewa, who had suddenly become very interested in the few stalagmites growing on the floor. "You were never supposed to return."

"But . . .!" I gasped.

Onua shook his head. Then he released a heavy, uncertain sigh. "However, I am not your Master. Your final fate rests with him . . . as well as another, but I will give you warning that they will more than likely have you go back to where you were." His eyes glimmered with apology. "I am sorry. It is wonderful to see you again -"

"You don't get it!" I wailed. "I don't have anywhere else to go. If you send me back, their just going to treat me even worse; I'll probably be locked up for good!" I shook my head. "I know you're all trying to protect me, I know you're worried about me, but I'm also worried about all of you.

"And besides, Makuta found me easily the first time and now so did Lewa. Can imagine how vulnerable I'll be if I'm not back with you all?"

The two Toa swapped glances. Lewa shrugged, smirking. "She possess-has a point."

Onua's shoulders slumped. "As I mentioned, I'm not her Master; it's not up to us." His green eyes softened. "Still, that does not mean we can't be cordial. Come, let's get you someplace warm. I have no doubt you have much to tell us."

He led Lewa and me further still into the cave towards a hut that seemed to belong there, rather than the ragtag of homely shacks and tents. The throng of Matoran trailed us all the way to the entrance when the Toa ushered them away. I was glad to have the large group away. For the longest time, it felt as if I couldn't escape scrutiny even for a moment.

The hut was warm and bathed in amber light from the fire pit blazing in the center of the room. It pretty barren, save for a few strange carvings upon the wall and a collection of crude chairs and even a bent table.

I drew close to the fire and held my hands out to its flame. Lewa and Onua joined me soon after, tossing a scratchy blanket over my shoulders. The coarse fibers itched my neck, but it was by far the best thing I could have asked for next to the fire.

"Sorry it's not the best," Onua said, gesturing to the blanket. He stooped by the fire and poked the embers at the bottom of the pit with a rod.

"It's great," I replied. "Though, you don't think I could maybe get some clothes? Or find something that could serve as clothes?" I snorted. "Geez, I'd even take extra armor at this point!"

Lewa chuckled, slapping me kindly on the back. "Eager-quick to become a Toa-hero already! Enjoy-savor being an Apprentice while you still can."

His blow nearly knocked me forward into the blaze. I steadied myself against the lip of the pit before the fire had a chance to singe my nose. "Well, it'll happen eventually," I shrugged, putting more distance between me and the pit.  
"No time too soon, I hope," Onua agreed. He pulled back from the pit, placing the blazing rod by his side. "As for extra clothes, we don't have anything to offer, but someone else does."

He pointed behind us at the door and Lewa and I both turned. There was a commotion from outside and I wondered if it was more nosy Matoran, but the voices that came up were too deep and too loud to be the villagers'. I dared to think it was who I thought and a wide smile split my face as Pohatu and Gali peered in through the doorway.

Pohatu's mouth fell open while Gali's eyes swelled to the size of the holes in her mask.

"I had to see it to believe it," Pohatu muttered then smiled, his grin only rivaled by Gali's.

They both squeezed into the room and I immediately jumped up to greet them. I couldn't get my arms around both of them, but they were more than capable of hugging me. I smiled so hard my cheeks started to burn. They had barely pulled back enough to get a good look at me before raining down question after question. They talked so fast that their voices bled into one another's.

"Hang on, hang on!" I gasped, holding up my hands. I hastily wiped away the stray tears beading at my eyes, but more just took their place. The wide smile failed to remove itself from my face.

Pohatu and Gali softened and the Toa of Water pulled me into her while Pohatu placed a calming hand upon my head, ruffling my wet hair. Lewa and Onua came up from behind and stood around us.

"Nice to know you missed us as well," Gali said softly in my ear. I nodded fervently and she pulled me away from her just enough to get a look at my face. "You've grown; you look just like your brother. How old are you now?"

"Fifteen," I answered.

"Still the youngest," Pohatu chuckled. "You'll have try harder to catch up to Matt."

The boy's name caught me off-guard. Matt had been the only other Apprentice that was with me three years ago when I first arrived on Mata Nui. If he had been with me through all of the police interrogations and therapy sessions, then maybe all the adults wouldn't have been so quick to label me as crazy.

"Matt's here?" I asked. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

"Fine, fine," Pohatu hushed, holding up a hand. "He's out doing a perimeter check with Tahu." His cheery expression suddenly dropped as he glanced at his fellow Toa. "So, are we hiding her until the right time or . . .?"

Gali hummed in thought. "It would not be wise to simply stow her away; Tahu will discover her eventually."

"And the fact-matter is he will be even more furious-mad if we lie-deceit about it," Lewa affirmed.

"He's not going to get mad," I interrupted and all four set their eyes on me. "There's nothing to be mad at." But then I remembered the poisonous glare of the Matoran at the gate. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"No one's blaming you, Cheryl," Onua countered.

"But some people do," I replied. A frown shoved the smile from my lips. "Let me guess: because all of this mess happened, everyone thinks it's because I stirred something up or somehow invited it, or even turned my back on all of you because I wasn't here. Okay, fine, some of it is my fault, but not all of it! I'm sorry I didn't do everything I could, I'm sorry I didn't stay - but it was because of Kopaka! He was the one who shoved me through that wormhole-portal thing! He wanted me to leave!"

"He was doing what he thought was best!" Pohatu cut in and my mouth was suddenly dry of words. Pohatu was loud and joyful by nature; never had I seen him erupt with such ferocity. "You should know. You saw what happened to Arc and Sebastian in Makuta's lair. Do you think Kopaka would have allowed the same to happen to you?"

I swallowed. "But didn't the same thing happen to him? Lewa said Kopaka was in trouble; where is he?" I frowned further, my hands balled into fists. "Is he dead or dying? Is that what you're all trying to keep from me?"

I watched the Toa carefully, marking any hesitation or any betrayal of their true intentions. Lewa tossed an expectant look at Onua, who then gave it to Pohatu, before finally passing it to Gali. I held my breath, bracing myself for what was to come next.

"Come," Gali beckoned.

She left the hut first and I immediately trailed behind her, the three other Toa following. The crowd of Matoran that had gathered around the structure cleared a path for us. Some of them turned away, pretending they had not heard anything of what was said, while others simply watched on, curious as to what would happen. I searched their glowing orbs for any hint of what the Toa were leading me to, but found nothing beyond hopelessness, fear, and distrust. Negative opinions had a way of spreading around.

Some of the crowd trailed behind us at a distance, the Matoran giving us a wide berth. Gali walked deeper and deeper into the Koro, saying nothing. I remained quiet as well, running through all of the possibilities of what I was going to see. Maybe Kopaka was injured and couldn't move and that was why he hadn't come to see me yet. Or maybe . . . he just didn't want to.

My stomach sank. The last I left the Ice Toa, he was giving his all to defend me against the Ghost of Sebastian. A Ghost was a Toa or an Apprentice that had gone bad, or what was left of them anyway. The goodness and purity were drained out of them by these slimy, slithering creatures called Shadow Leeches. It was a horrible experience; I nearly had the displeasure of becoming one myself. I knew for certain Kopaka wouldn't have gone through all this effort to save me just to turn his back on me . . . but maybe that was my mistake all along.

Pohatu said Kopaka thought he was doing what was best. I understood it was to prevent me from falling to the same fate as Arc or Sebastian, but did he ever think what would happen once I did return home? Did he ever think not everyone would believe what I had to say about where I had gone or who I was with? Did he ever think I would be rejected and shut away in some asylum? My fists tightened and I swallowed the knot in my throat. If he had thought about those things then maybe he would have thought twice about leaving me.

Gali held up a hand and we stopped in front of a makeshift hut similar to the many scattered around the Koro, however this one was a little bigger than those, but not as big as Onua's hut. A few Ko-Matoran lingered by its perimeter and my chest tightened.

"Wait here," Gali instructed. She stooped down a little and disappeared into the hut.

I shifted nervously from one foot to the other, occasionally glancing at the other Toa behind me, trying to read the expressions on their masks. Years of fighting Makuta had made them experts in hiding them.

Slowly, Gali emerged from the hut.

I took a hesitant step forward and she nodded for me to continue, holding open part of the meager piece of cloth that served as a door. Swallowing hard, I approached the makeshift house, carefully putting one foot in front of the other as if I would suddenly forget how to walk. Gali placed a hand on my shoulder just before I entered.

"Don't try to be too surprised," she said softly. "Both of you have endured much."

She released me with a squeezed and joined her brothers, leaving me standing just a couple paces from the entrance. My feet were glued in place and I wondered if I had enough courage to pull them free. With a deep breath, I grasped the thin curtain hanging over the door and dragged myself the last couple of steps into the hut.

I didn't have to stoop as low as Gali, but did duck my head a little to avoid colliding with the lintel. It was only one room and sparsely furnished like Onua's dwelling had been, even less so. It was relatively dark, the only lighting coming from a small, blue lightstone embedded into the wall that had a crack running along its side. The temperature was nearly at freezing point, but even the coldest temperature couldn't compare to the chill I felt when I gazed into the corner.

Kopaka sat on a roughly hewn stool that was a little out of the ways from the rest of the room; certainly the farthest from the light. His back was turned to me, but I could see the extensive damage done to it. His armor, like Lewa's, was pitted and marked from countless battles. The worst of them was a long gouge that stretched from his left shoulder to his right hip; even some of the organic tissue was scarred. I hated to think what the rest of him was like.

"You're here." Kopaka's voice was as quiet and ferocious as a late night blizzard.

Goosebumps prickled my skin. Unable to find the words to reply, I simply nodded.

"Why?"

"The same reason you couldn't leave me in Makuta's lair, I guess," I replied. I blinked as Kopaka scoffed.

"You're not even a Toa yet and you already sound like one," he said.

"I'm a Toa's Apprentice," I shrugged. "How else am I supposed to sound?"

There was no reply and I felt the need to drift off into silence, but shoved it aside.

"Why did you do it?" I asked, taking a step closer. The air became like the arctic. "I know you were trying to protect me and all, but do you know what doing that did? It was just as bad going home as it was being here; maybe even more. I had never had a bigger group of people hate me for something I knew was right."

"Be grateful you are hated and alive rather than somewhere between life and death and have no will of your own," Kopaka said.

"I know, the Ghosts. Look, you don't have to pretend with me, all right? I'm not twelve anymore; I can handle a lot of things now. I saw what happened to Le-Koro; it happened all over Mata Nui I'm guessing, from what I've seen here -"

"And have you seen them?" Kopaka's voice cut through mine like a falling icicle. He shifted a little in his seat, but his mask remained in shadow. "Ta-Wahi? Ga-Wahi?" He snorted as I shook my head. "You may have aged and you may have seen much, but that does not qualify you as being capable of witnessing such destruction - there are even Toa who cannot. As an Apprentice, you cannot be sheltered from all of the world's tragedies, but do not be so hasty as to look forward to seeing them. You may not like what you find."

Kopaka rose from his perch and turned fully towards me - not even the dim lighting could have shielded the horror from me. His mask was heavily scarred on one side, a deep gash racing across his left cheek. There were other minor scuff marks and hairline cracks, but they didn't hold my attention like his eyes . . . or rather lack there of. Kopaka had removed a strip of gauze-textured cloth from around the upper portion of his mask and revealed a milky colored orb and a useless telescopic lens.

It was all I could do but stare, motionless. I thought I had been prepared for the worst, but his appearance shook me to my core. A pit dropped in my stomach as Kopaka smoothly strode forward without pause. My eyes were glued to him, calculating what his next move would be, hoping to stay one step ahead. I tensed as he drew closer and closer, until we were nearly abreast - then he walked past me, placing the cloth around his eyes before he left.


End file.
